Chapter 3
Brass in Pocket
RYDER
“So you’re not family.” The nurse glances up at me from her tablet.
“No, ma’am.” I run a hand over the back of my neck and look toward the door. Where the hell is everyone? We got to the hospital twenty minutes ago. Granted, we were able to run some red lights.
Still, shouldn’t Mr. and Mrs. Wallace have arrived by now? I imagine they weren’t driving the speed limit either.
“And you’re not her boyfriend.” The keyboard clacks as the nurse takes notes.
“I’m not, no.”
Billie cracks open an eye and smirks, her full lips curving upward in a way that makes my pulse skip. “Ryder doesn’t do the boyfriend thing.”
How is it that she’s laid up in a hospital bed but still looks so fucking pretty? Ain’t fair.
“You sure know how to pick ’em.” I fall into a chair and stretch out my legs. “Boyfriends, I mean.”
She chuckles. “Xander not your type, huh?”
“That rodeo clown? Hell no.”
“Good thing he’s not my boyfriend, then.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. Billie is always trying to get a rise out of me. I typically don’t respond, but tonight, I figure a little levity will go a long way in helping Billie cope. Poor thing is scared. And hurting.
Luckily, the X-rays we just took ruled out a spinal or head injury. But Billie’s arm is in a bad way, and she has some bruised ribs.
“You can do better than him,” I manage carefully.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s slim pickings around here. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
The nurse is chuckling now too as she looks back up. “All the good ones are taken, right?”
“Yes! Pairing off like it’s their job.” Billie gives me a meaningful look. “Everyone except you, Ry.”
There’s that stab of electric pain in my center again. What the hell do I say to that?
Not my style to lead anyone on.
I like to have fun.
I had to numb myself when my parents died, and no one can fall in love with a person who’s only half alive.
The nurse saves me by speaking up. “So if this cowboy here isn’t family, and he’s not your boyfriend, then was he just the first person on the scene, or—”
“He was.” Billie’s smirk broadens into a smile. “He’s also hot, and all y’all nurses and doctors like him, which I hope means you’ll like me and be extra gentle and let me have dessert after you fix my bum arm?”
My turn to roll my eyes. I also bite back a smile. Billie is a firecracker wherever she goes. Gotta respect the consistency—there’s not a fake bone in this girl’s body.
This time the nurse flat out laughs, looking me up and down before returning to her computer screen. “Solid strategy. I’ll just say he’s a close friend, then.”
“Wish I had more of those.” Billie sighs. “Girlfriends especially.”
I blink. “That’s random.”
“No it’s not. Y’all take for granted that it’s practically all dudes, all the time on a ranch. When Ava and Sally came to work for us, I almost cried I was so happy. They’re part of the reason I was so hellbent on learning how to race—I wanted the excuse to hang out with them more.”
The nurse nods. “My girlfriends are a lifeline. Couldn’t do life without them.”
“Do you think I’m gonna need surgery?” Billie’s voice sounds thin all of a sudden, making my heart cramp.
The nurse continues to type on the keyboard. “The doctor will be in to examine you shortly. Whatever happens, just know you’re in good hands, honey, all right?”
Billie looks at me, her big hazel eyes earnest. “You gonna put those healing hands of yours on me too? If I need ’em?”
This time, the nurse and I both laugh. Feels good to let myself enjoy Billie’s admittedly great sense of humor for once instead of responding with my usual grunts or deflections.
“Pretty sure your brothers wouldn’t love that,” I manage.
“They wouldn’t like it if I died either.”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“From my arm? No. But from a broken heart?” She bats her eyelashes. “Those have killed more people than falls from horses ever did.”
The nurse cuts me an amused look. “Is she always like this?”
“No. She’s worse.”
Billie just grins. “I love being bad.”
The nurse shakes her head. “Can I trust y’all to behave while I go get the doc?”
“No,” Billie replies.
At the same time, I say, “Yes.”
Grinning, the nurse heads for the door. “Just clean up after yourselves.”
“Oh, this cowboy cleans up real nice, doesn’t he?” Billie asks.
I hang my head, smiling so hard my face hurts.
Danger danger danger.
But I choose to ignore the alarm bells going off in my head. I’m dealing with a legit emergency, for crying out loud. It’s a sin to put effort into keeping my guard up instead of keeping Billie’s spirits up.
“Since when do you know CPR?” Billie asks after the nurse leaves, closing the door behind her.
“Since your brother needed my help with Dean after Abby got sick. I was on babysitting duty a lot for a while there, and I wanted to be prepared in case, you know. Anything happened.”
Colt’s wife Abby died of cancer a few years back. Their son, Dean, was really young when she was diagnosed, so it was all hands on deck to provide childcare while Abby underwent treatment.
Billie sticks out that fucking bottom lip. “Aw, Ry. That’s adorable.”
Look. Away. From. Her mouth.
“Not so adorable when you have to perform CPR because you think someone’s in trouble. You gave us a real scare, Billie.”
“I leaned into the turn too much. I could feel myself coming out of the saddle, and next thing I know, I’m flying through the air, and then, bam.” She blinks, her throat working on a swallow. “Thanks, by the way. For the mouth-to-mouth.”
I scoff. This time, I have the peace of mind not to respond.
Instead, I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I feel weirdly sore in my back and legs, like I was the one who fell off a horse. Who knew performing CPR for real was such a workout?
Or maybe it’s just my body coming down from the horrible adrenaline rush of thinking Billie Wallace might be paralyzed, or worse. To be stuck in a wheelchair after the ride of a lifetime—I can’t imagine. She looked so…fierce riding that cloverleaf. So free.
So alive.
As cowboys, my brothers and I like to claim we’re free. Free from the tedium of desk jobs. Free from the pressures of the rat race.
Sometimes, though, when it’s late and I can’t sleep, I wonder why, if I’m so “free,” I feel like I’m slowly suffocating. Duke would talk about feeling suffocated too, before he met Wheeler. But that was because he was bored with life on the ranch and wanted to travel the world.
Me? I don’t mind life on the ranch one bit. In fact, I love being a cowboy. Working outdoors with animals, being part of a team of great people, the strength and stamina the job’s given me—I enjoy the hell out of it all.
No, this sense of being stifled comes from something else. Someplace else.
Someplace inside me. Maybe it’s the numbness I keep thinking about. Sure, not feeling much keeps me safe. But maybe it’s also cutting off my air supply. Because watching Billie ride was like having oxygen pumped back into my lungs. Now that I’m thinking about it, it feels…almost like waking up.
This girl’s gonna ride again. She has to.
“I really enjoyed making you squirm in front of the nurse,” Billie continues. “She’s cute, by the way.”
“I didn’t notice.”
Billie rolls her eyes. “Sure you didn’t.”
It’s the truth, though. The nurse could’ve been Shrek, and I don’t think I would’ve batted an eye. Billie has my attention, and despite her sly little remarks, she knows it.
I start to feel hot underneath my collar. This focus on her, this possessiveness, the flirting. It’s inappropriate. I should leave, even if everything inside me yells at just the thought of walking out of this little room.
“I hope everyone is okay.” Glancing at the door, I run my hand over my nape for what feels like the hundredth time. “Where is your family?”
Billie lifts a shoulder. “They’re coming.” A pause. “You were the first on the scene.”
“What?” I blink, turning my head to meet her eyes.
Hers are soft. Vulnerable. So is her voice when she says, “There were medics in the arena, but you beat them to it.”
My face flushes. “I don’t know if you remember, but I was All-State in the 100-meter dash.”
“I remember.” She cracks a smile. “You were the only one who ran track.”
The rest of them—my brothers and hers—played baseball and football. But I liked the way my body felt when I was hurtling around the curves of the track. It felt like meditation. The thump of my heart, the steady beat of my sneakers on the asphalt.
I’m not a runner anymore—don’t have the time or the energy for anything other than cowboying and hunting—but back in the day, I loved it.
“Everyone leapt out of their seats when you fell.” I straighten, sighing when my spine meets with the back of the chair. “I just so happened to be the fastest.”
That’s mostly true, anyway.
Billie’s eyes glimmer. My heart tips over. The hazel in her irises looks amber right now. Pretty and soft.
“Thank you.” Billie says the words with heartfelt sincerity. “For being there. And for—”
“Knock knock!” A jovial woman in blue scrubs and matching skullcap steps into the room. “I hear we have a rodeo queen in our midst!”
Billie grins. “Are you going to help me straighten my crown and the bones in my arm?”
Goddamn it, this girl won’t stop making me laugh. Go figure, when I allow myself to actually engage with Billie on a real level, she’s fun to be around. There’s this sense of lightness to her that somehow complements her sharpness.
“I’ll do my best. I’m Dr. Mansfield, and I’ll be operating on you today.”
Billie’s grin fades. “So I do need surgery.”
“I’m afraid you do, yes. But don’t worry, we’ll have you right as rain in no time at all. We have an OR opening up in just a bit here.” The doctor pulls up Billie’s X-rays on a TV screen and proceeds to walk us through where the fracture is and what the fix will look like.
In short: eight screws, two plates, and three hours of surgery.